We've since become reacquainted.
Meanwhile Wrenzy looked adorable in the hat Jim got her while I was gone, although I have to say I don't think it's been worn since:
Ever had Crazy Sock Day at school on May 12. Since she doesn't own any fun socks, she was adamant that we go to Target that morning before school and buy some. Turns out Ever was the only one in her class to remember the occasion, to which Mrs. Reese said, "Of course." Mrs. Reese told me when she was talking to the class about the things they were going to bring home for Mother's Day, Ever raised her hand and said, "So-and-so wasn't here that day" (meaning the day they made the Mother's Day stuff). When I told Jim that I think such anecdotes mean she's a genius, he said they mean she's going to remember everything we do wrong. So there is that. These were the craziest socks we could find:
I have to include this picture because I love Ever's mane:
A few times I stopped by Frazier Farms with the girls on the way home from picking Ever up from school. I love a cart full of girls.
The day that picture was taken, Ever got out at the checkout line and helped unload things. After putting something on the belt, I turned back to the girls and saw the cart falling over. Ever was trying to lift it up, but it was basically on top of her and only a couple inches off the ground. Both Tyna and Wren were still inside. Tyna was belted in, and somehow no one got hurt because it all happened in slow motion. A man rushed to help lift the cart up, and I got there about the same time. Everybody was fine, but I really must have looked like a mess of a mother. I a little bit scolded Ever for pulling the cart over while trying to reach inside. She started crying, so then I was trying to comfort her. I think Tiny was having difficulties, too. It was not ideal.
Wrenzy is not the best at drawing on paper. The first thing I thought when she came into the kitchen like this was "reindeer," although that's probably not the right animal:
To pay me back, Mel had Ever and Wren over one morning. They had a grand time.
Jim pulled off another successful Mother's Day brunch at church. It was touch and go there for a while, as we ended up with the wrong kind of Rhodes cinnamon rolls. They were some new type that are to be microwaved instead of baked. We stayed up really late the night before doing test batches, making sure we could bake them in the oven so we could make them fresh at church, and figuring out the ice cream-based goo in which Kathy Shirley used to bake them. Curse Kathy Shirley for starting this Mother's Day brunch/lunch tradition! We are not sad that next year will probably be our last Mother's Day as Mr. and Mrs. bishop.
Ever presented me with all sorts of neat things for Mother's Day. I made her pose with them two months later so I could document my gifts.
This one she made at school made Jim and me cry. She's getting big so fast.
Ever was very excited about a "Mother's Day Book" she made for me all by herself early one morning.
I think that sentiment is continued onto this page, which is harder to make out but is accompanied by a nice heart:
The end is, "You're the best mom. You're so wonderful. Happy Mother's Day."
She's the sweetest.
Jim took the Thursday and Friday after Mother's Day off for our anniversary. We didn't have a sitter Thursday, and Jim had a man cold anyway. I don't think we really did anything. Friday we had Taylor (the sitter we use on the day I work) come over in the morning, and then Alissa Hawkins relieved her after school and spent the night and all Saturday with the girls. Jim had booked us a hotel by Little Italy in San Diego in what turned out to be a pretty ghetto area. The hotel is new, and the room was really expensive. The website makes the place look nice. The room was small but fine:
We were shocked when we opened the drapes, though. Are you kidding me? So much money to look at this?
We got online and searched for a room in that hotel that night and found a significantly lower price than Jim paid. We felt very ripped off, and I determined to complain. It did not occur to me to complain right then and ask if they could switch us to a different room. Jim deleted his booking confirmation e-mail, and I lost the card for the manager I requested when we checked out. So two months later I sent an e-mail to a generic sales department e-mail address I found online. Unsurprisingly, I have not received a response. I'm still bitter about their misleading marketing and exorbitant prices.
Jim felt like trash all weekend but tried to power through and make it fun. We walked to dinner at a fancy restaurant that night. Our salad blew my mind, but the main courses were not great. It's really hard for me to spend money and not feel as if I'm getting value for it. We enjoyed watching a crowd salsa dance to a live band outside the restaurant.
There was a Cheesecake Factory nearby, so we split a slice before walking back to the hotel. We went in the hot tub and then discovered that the pool was actually a more enjoyable temperature, although it was freakishly small and shallow - about three feet deep the whole way. We were both very tired by 10:30 or 11, but Jim was determined to have the fun tims and made us walk another few miles to Extraordinary Desserts. We got a couple things to go and took them back to the room. I had reached my sweets limit after the cheesecake but did my part anyway. I know that place is supposed to be amazing, but I don't think either of the things we got was incredible.
Saturday morning we tried to go for a run but started walking after a couple miles. It was hot, and Jim was sick. We ran here when we did a San Diego anniversary weekend a few years ago.
We decided to go to a matinee of The Old Man and The Old Moon at the Old Globe Theater. (Speaking of olds, the crowd was definitely mostly white-hairs.) A youth dance group did some dancing in the courtyard outside while we were waiting to go into the theater. That was fun.
My favorite part was when bystanders joined them, and this older fellow really got his groove on.
The Old Man and The Old Moon is a show by PigPen Theatre Co. that incorporates folk music and hand puppetry to tell an Irish (?) folktale, or something like that. I was in love with the set at first sight. Before the show started, an Orlando Bloom look-alike came out and started playing folk music. The other members of the group joined him one by one.
This is the only picture of us from the weekend, waiting for the show to start:
The music was our favorite part. I loved it. The story was fun, and the whole production was charming although a little long. The group did a Q&A afterward, and it was interesting to learn more about them. They're a group of guys who recently graduated from Carnegie Mellon drama school. I'm amazed they've been able to do what they've done.
We started heading toward home after the show, and I researched more places to eat. We tried a new farm-to-table restaurant that blew us away with its appetizers but, again, left something to be desired in the entree department. Most of the food was too adventurous for us, and I ended up ordering beef cheek ravioli. Jim asked for clarification about the beef cheek, and it really is just what it says it is. I tried to pretend that that didn't bother me, but I was really disgusted by the thought of eating a cow's face. Also the sauce just wasn't the best. At least the appetizers were wonderful.
When we got home, Alissa said that everything went great and she would do it again. (This was her first overnight gig.) I was pleased. Her parents subsequently reported to us that Alissa told them all she did the whole time was feed people, change diapers, and put people to bed. Her mom said she asked, "Why do they have to poop every time they eat?" Although that's sad for her, I felt validated. That is my life. Their basic needs take up all the time. (Side note: Alissa subsequently agreed to watch the two littles for a whole weekend in September when we go to my work retreat, so it really must have gone OK, despite all the feeding and diaper changing.)
We went swimming at a friend's pool once. I know flotation vests make kids not learn to swim, but it is amazing to be able to let Wren go in by herself.
Jim and Wrennington Steele played a nice Wren-controls-the-snuggles game one evening.
On one of our Saturday runs, Tyna was making the stinkiest faces. Totally unimpressed.
I worked hard to get a bit of a smile out of her.
My Wren is a tiny little wisp of a thing.
It's hard to handle her cuteness. One night she ate tons of pesto pasta, and I asked if she were a pesto monster. She said, "I not pesto monster. I Wrenzypoo!" After that, we began asking her regularly, "Are you Wren Mara Kringel?" She would answer, "I not Wren Mara Kingel [sic]" or "I not Wren Mara." "Who are you?" "I Wrenzypoo!" After about a month of that, she lengthened it, becoming "Wrenzypoo-lovey." As I write this, she is always adamantly "Wrenzypoo-lovey." Sometimes she tells me that Ever is Wren Mara.
Tiny 's mop of hair is glorious.
Jim despises cooking - unless he's making a recipe from Sunset magazine on a Sunday afternoon. He made us a berry pie once. We gorged and finished it all right then, and that sort of ruined the experience. Then he made amazing blackberry turnovers:
I loved them so much. We shared some with Cikaneks next door, and Scott didn't save any for Rebecca.
Tiny has become so much more difficult than she was as a baby. For so many months, she just lay on her back, totally chill. Now she is everywhere and into everything. She knows what she wants and cries to get it. This phase is so hard, when I have to watch her all the time and worry about her choking on everything and she can't speak to communicate her desires. At least she's squeezable, with the best cheeks in the business.
On Memorial Day, Ever tried to teach Wren The Pledge of Allegiance. This is the best overall video I got, even though Wren doesn't really participate. Note the ending, "just as for all."
